ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line)
read maknae line here
genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes
length: 12.8k
c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)
a/n: this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months 🥴 and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)
hongjoong
pov: you're the king's royal courtesan
“fuck,” hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. “you’re just as tight as last time”
when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head
he can’t help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness
“i thought- god,” a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, “thought you never fucked the same woman twice”
“i don’t,” he simply says
and it’s true
hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness
he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls
hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans
it’s not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king
the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?
he never sees the same courtesan more than once
“yet here you are,” you hook your legs around hongjoong’s waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, “between my legs for the second time”
you smirk when he curses and throws his head back
his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low
“the first time doesn’t count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time i’m requesting for your services”
he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck
you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status
part of the ‘house of flowers’ and commonly referred to as ‘flower courtesans’, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer
you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you
lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services
it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another
whether the rumours about his stamina will be true
whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule
except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever
lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chae’s fever would only serve to help make the king’s dick warmer
lady shin is not amused to say the least
with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead
and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for
(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)
(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the “sluttiest set” that she can find)
your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed
you tease in between short breaths, “are you really bringing up another woman’s name while you have your cock inside me?”
“you brought it up first,” he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts
you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching
“why?” he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, “are you getting jealous already?”
for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too
“as if. fuck off”
your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation
“i’m close,” hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour
when you hear him groan, “cum for me,” the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you
hongjoong’s hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you
he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you
hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants
when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, “you better not be jealous. first one to get jealous loses”
“if anyone’s going to get jealous first, it’s you,” you scoff back
he raises an eyebrow
oh yeah?
he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm
now that shuts you up
for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the king’s name
and another request turns into another
and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name
but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship
he asks you to teach him how to embroider because you’ve mentioned before it’s how you like to spend your free evenings
he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring
you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which he’s upturning everything
“what’s this?” he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, “a necklace?”
“i wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,” you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings
he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with
you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the king’s fingers are only good for scissoring you open
you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches you’re showing him
except, when you look up to see if he’s following?
his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and he’s leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you
“were you even paying attention?”
he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all
in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet
he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke
he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times
you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway
there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too
(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)
you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you ‘don’t forget’ about him when you’re not with him
when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shin’s interest as you walk past
“hongjoong taught me how to write my name today”
lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder
she laughs then asks to have a look
you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise
“that’s not your name? these are the characters for- oh,” she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery
“what does it mean?” you hurry to clarify
you wouldn’t put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like ‘best tits’ or ‘biggest ass’
lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you
“it says, my flower”
you’re looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later
lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her
“you have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,” she informs you. “would you like me to give him the usual answer?”
this isn’t the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you
you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoong’s pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan
and as you open your mouth to tell her ‘yes’, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall
my flower
you hesitate
“actually,” you look away from the hanja, “i’ll see hongjoong.”
lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her
the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now
you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasn’t learnt his basic stitches yet
(that’ll teach him to not pay attention when you’re demonstrating, ha)
you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway
and you find that he’s actually not that bad with embroidery once he’s actually focused on the task at hand
it’s nice, basking in each other's presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours
not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy
and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day
“i actually have it on me, in fact,” and you take it out from where it’s tucked into your waist so that you can show him
he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, “it’s pretty, i guess”
then as an afterthought he tacks on, “bet i could do a better job”
“are you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?”
said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again
“no i’m not!”
“whatever you say,” you smirk
after that day though, you don’t receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later
which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much
but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long
you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldn’t have brought up the handkerchief gift
yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass
you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth
he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, “i have a surprise for you”
you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone
guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed
“do you trust me?” he whispers
trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, “of course”
you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift
you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air
and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoong’s soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders
you have to remind yourself to keep breathing
“you can look now,” he tells you
you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect
it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus
and you gasp
there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon
“try it on,” he encourages
but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing
it’s patchy
it’s uneven
it has empty areas
but it is no doubt embroidery
“did you…did you make this?” you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you
“of course,” he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, “i’m not losing to a lousy handkerchief”
“is that why you disappeared for two weeks?”
you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing
he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him
upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, “i poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?”
you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, “thank you, joong. i love it so much, i really do”
he looks at you impossibly soft
under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core
you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers
it’s almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue
so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth
you suck on them a little harder
a little deeper
and then you moan around his fingers, “i want you”
he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches
“i- fuck, i didn’t give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,” yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall
“i know, but i want you,” you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. “and i need you. now.”
he doesn’t need further encouragement
he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds
it doesn’t take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them
he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly
then he’s turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoong’s firm grasp
“fuck, you’re so wet,” his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you
the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room
and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name
he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers
he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs
when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs
a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter
“be careful what pretty sounds you’re making if you can’t handle another round”
it isn’t until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that he’s been using this whole time
your mouth drops in disbelief
when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, “the man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighs”
“hongjoong!” you flush with a laugh. “you are definitely jealous, aren’t you?”
“yes, i’m fucking jealous,” he growls, “you’re the only one i want. you’re the only woman i’ve been requesting for since i’ve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, too”
you confess, “well, you can have all of me. because i’ve started refusing other people just for you”
he looks at you for another moment before he’s suddenly straddling your hips
“change of plans,” he says breathily, “i need you again”
“very good plan,” you grind up against him
and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, “one last thing though”
hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny
“that handkerchief?” you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, “i never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chae”
seonghwa
pov: you're his royal guard
as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away
you murmur seonghwa’s name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the prince’s safety
one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear
they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear
from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits
seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though
unsurprising but still grating
the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside
albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left
it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term ‘men’ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen
the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see
“my companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?” the one with the map asks
“of course,” seonghwa offers with a kind smile
you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map
on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the prince’s belt
you catch the subtle motion of seonghwa’s eyes flickering down just an inch
because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention
but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isn’t going to do anything about it either
so you strike in his stead
your hand darts out to snatch the thieve’s wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping
his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee
scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him
"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle
"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"
"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins
“mhm,” you hum, “and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with it”
he levels you with a boyish scowl, “you’re so dramatic. what are you, my mother?”
“no, but i am your royal bodyguard”
“exactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be it”
you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up
it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector
it has been almost four years since it happened
somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him
you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator
an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle
seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncle’s crimes warranted execution
to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned
you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement
it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him
as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision
“i’ll be your sword,” you pledge
not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness
and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him
you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang
quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked
neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows
he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again
you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly
it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism
one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more
where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice
“you should be more wary of others,” you always remind him
“and you should be more trusty of others,” he’ll retort
yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with
where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield
you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike
you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status
and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself
where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution
your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for
he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway
you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew
but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him
as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way
seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him
he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you
(“that’s actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,” you tell him on more than one occasion)
(it’s adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)
you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with
after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you
not that he’s attracted to you or anything - you just…have an objectively attractive face
yes.
especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies
he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a siren’s song
seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck
except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness
the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth
you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you
needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping
but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it
like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers
it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects
conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room
everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon
when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet
and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls
baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting
“you smuggled candy out of the room?” you try to keep the amusement out of your voice
he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed
as if they are-
“for you!” he exclaims almost proudly. “i saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for you”
okay
most definitely proudly
you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger
“when did you even…” your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to
“remember the paintings i pointed out?” seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. “i swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at them”
“thank you, hwa,” you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else
that is more than enough for him, though
which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things
he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth
you’ve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter
you wonder if his lips will taste the same…
but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind
because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow
how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?
so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship
you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation
seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together
it’s strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart
he wonders whether it’s possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of
and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhaps…
in love with you
following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around
but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts
until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace
seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytail
then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder
you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-
until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land
it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemy’s exposed side
when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief
“what in the world were you thinking?” you yell
“i-”
taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, “no, actually. you weren’t thinking at all”
“i was afraid that you would get hurt!” he takes his own step closer
“that is my duty!” the volume of your voice raises even more. “i am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?”
for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing
seonghwa swallows
“my feelings…” he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. “my feelings for you have changed”
your throat tightens at his words
it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips
he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes
“i’d rather be the protector, and you be the protected”
“but…why?” your heart races with anticipation
“because i’m in love with you”
right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response
“then that makes the two of us,” you confess
you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop
you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side
raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips
it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile
you can’t help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him
“from now on,” seonghwa starts, “i’ll be your sword”
you wouldn’t really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesn’t stop one last teasing question from escaping you
“does this mean i get to retire?”
yunho
pov: you're part of a rebel group
the crown prince is not in his fucking library
for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night
until today
under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing
except doing that would make your job significantly harder…
considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.
you’re part of the ‘red sun’, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch
following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash
a leash made of barbed wire
people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline
although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queen’s
within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters
the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination
dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners
and you are amongst the elite team
which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince
except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong
which never happens
you can’t risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine
he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards
you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave
only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof
their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same
you run
you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room
when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs
this game of cat and mouse isn’t going to work for long
if you don’t get caught by him first, you’re both going to get caught by the palace guards
so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower
keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump
you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees
then you wait
he’s good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground
“state your purpose,” he demands, voice low yet firm
you ignore him to ask, “who are you?”
now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-
wait
even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same
the same as those on the elite team
“one of you,” he confirms your suspicions
except you don’t recognise his voice nor his build
being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours
he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet
when you don’t speak, he adds on, “we need to go. the safehouse might be in danger”
we
he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team
you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him
“when is red most beautiful?”
it is a vague question with a fixed answer
one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself
during the sunrise of a new beginning
“during the sunrise of a new beginning,” the man says resolutely
the tension releases from your shoulders
“okay,” you opt to abandon your original mission. “let’s check on the safehouse”
the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease
you both flip over the top and land in unison
the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest
the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols
you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps
and then you hear it
the shattering clang of a desperate parry
all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut
you’re both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and it’s not from your drawn swords
bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you
several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury
it’s easy to spot the intruder; they’re yanking their sword out of a body’s torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you
and it’s hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate
you have the element of surprise
but only for the next few seconds
you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing
there’s a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed
you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them
except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away
the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive
but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them
you.
you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword
the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness
in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam
you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemy’s grasp still on your hand
but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling
“check on the others,” he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder
you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground
you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries
there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse
which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks
how did he know about the attack in the first place?
you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him
except…the man has disappeared
and so has the intruder’s body
days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library
you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise
this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line
you spot him
he’s preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments
you wait until he’s walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer
you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles
and there the crown prince stands
he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy
mercy that you have no intention of showing him
the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none
“it’s you again, isn’t it?”
you freeze
the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you
“you were here a few days ago”
fuck
how he knows you have no idea
what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well
the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy
“you are part of red sun, are you not?”
this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isn’t the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel
it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does
what the actual fuck
you’re convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy
“i am,” you spit out at him, “with orders to assassinate you, in fact”
his mouth thins into a tight line, “the orders you have received are false”
“sounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,” you scoff
but then his next words change everything
“red is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginning”
before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince
“hide,” he hisses urgently
and then he’s stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible
you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where you’re crouched behind a bookshelf
“apologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,” they say
from where you are you can see the crown prince’s expression clear as he lets out a small huff, “i have told you many times to just call me yunho”
“of course, crown prince yunho”
even though you can’t see the other person’s expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice
they continue, “i have the information you have requested for”
“thank you,” you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. “the queen does not know?”
“no, i made sure to be as discreet as possible”
yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them
is this the same crown prince as the rumours?
and what is he doing behind his mother’s back?
you don’t realise you’ve been staring dumbly at him until he’s back in front of you with amusement on his face
he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility
“who exactly are you,” you dare to ask
your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you
but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level
“i am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolution”
your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor
because how is any of this possible?
you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you
it makes you feel so strange
the crown prince’s willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier
yunho starts to explain
a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people
thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined
in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning
a new leadership
except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked
“that night…that man was you,” you realise, “and that’s how you know who i am”
he nods, “and that’s also how i know your orders are false.” yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, “pretty sure i never ordered for my own assassination”
yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained
he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence
“hang on,” you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry
yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, “woah okay, this is moving a little fast don’t you think?”
you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look
yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-
“a suicide pill?”
you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing
the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like
you’re both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves
but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb
it’s a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar
yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given
whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well
there isn’t much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho
but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends
you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence
except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle
other times he is the one trying to fluster you
“remember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-”
“i was taking the pill out to show you!”
you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap
“i am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after all”
he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, “oh please spare me, your majesty”
other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on
“bet it’s because you’re ugly or something,” he jokes
and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so you’re one to talk, ugly
“but since then i’ve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,” he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupid’s brow. “what do you think about me now?”
you swallow hard
you’re glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up
“i think…” you gently cup his jaw, “you look better with your mask on,” as you nudge his face to the side
you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee
and eventually, you two have a breakthrough
yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine
in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of ‘lee minjun’
“i’m sure i’ve seen the name before somewhere, but i can’t remember where,” yunho huffs
you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder
pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two
they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious
“i noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. it’s almost like the paper was accidentally marked”
you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea
he doesn’t - not at first
not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image
“this-” yunho runs his hand through his hair, “this is butler lee’s stamp. my father’s butler.”
the king’s butler?
lee?
your eyes snap to yunho’s, just as his meet yours
“lee minjun”
you sink back in your seat
there’s now definite proof that the king’s butler is at the very least involved
the question of why and what for remains
in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too
there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future
yunho breaks the silence first
“after this all ends…do you want to work for me, officially?” he clears his throat, “will you stay by my side?”
after this all ends
you two must still uncover butler lee’s motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too
you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne
the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon
the new beginning is close
and at that, something in you relaxes
crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief
“it would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunho”
and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once
ironically, yunho chokes on air
you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes
you think your eyes are deceiving you because-
the tips of his ears are a glowing red
you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess
the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, “like what you see?”
“you should really keep your hood and mask on,” he mumbles
“and why is that?” you humour him
he finally looks at you
and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours
“because,” his voice deep and flirtatious, “with a pretty face like that, you’re going to distract me from my duties”
yeosang
pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him
ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parents’ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang
it just made sense
for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies
it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding
so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love
and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned
if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang
he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room
he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyard
they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger
you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, “he looks stupid”
if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now
you stifle a laugh as you flick juwon’s chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy
if anything, you’re pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid
stupidly in love
because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince
unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing
it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world
but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written
the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace
it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage
you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter
whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words
whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him
two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom
and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter
your whole life you have been able to wait patiently
you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity
the day yeosang’s letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace
even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him
nothing can bring you down from cloud nine
only…the letter never comes
not the day after, not the week after, not the month after
you’re disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you don’t give up
you send him another letter, and then another, and another
sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said
other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fears
and you also wonder about him
you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are
with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits
you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a reply
until-
you do.
it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile
with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelope’s contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded
your mind races with anticipated words and explanations
perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier
or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit
you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-
stop sending me letters.
and just like that, the clock strikes twelve
your carriage reverts into a pumpkin
and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes
you don’t write to him again.
years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them
they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son
now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife
really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can
you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed
she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, “did you buy that?”
“no,” you reach out to touch the baby’s breath, “someone delivered it to my room”
you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you
“why?” you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully
“it looks just like the vase in my brother’s room, but he’s weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have it”
you blanch a little, “in that case i’ll give it back to him later then”
“you don’t like it? or…you don’t like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,” she reveals
caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before
you don’t specify by what exactly or who it is that you’re talking about, but she seems to understand regardless
later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosang’s room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, “what did you do to make her upset?”
before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, “you boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,” and then walks out with a huff
there’s no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway
heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning
the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosang’s palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting
you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again
if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish
“your highness,” the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, “how may we help you?”
when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none
“but we can make you one now, if you do not mind waiting”
you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, “i just thought there may have been leftover pastries”
“we make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,” the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, “his highness has expressed that you may like them”
oh?
flustered, you can only muster a short response of, “i do, thank you,” before you smile once more and excuse yourself
because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang?
first the vase, and now this
you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud
your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like it’s too much
when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky
you’re tired of fearing rejection if you open up
you’re tired of questioning yeosang’s intentions
and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-
“are you okay?”
yeosang’s soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door
he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, “what’s wrong?”
thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind
you start with half truths
“just missing my little brother”
“you love him a lot, don’t you,” yeosang smiles sweetly, “i can see it in the way you take care of yeoreum”
you can’t help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that he’s noticed all the times you’ve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon
it implies he’s noticed you
“what’s your fondest memory of juwon?” he asks when you nod
something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brother’s name
you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently
“we used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,” you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, “it drove our mother nuts”
“doesn’t sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?” yeosang questions with mirth
“no, it didn’t,” your heart aches with fondness. “he would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mind”
it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b
yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes
when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly
“i know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because you’ve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?”
you don’t admit it, but you’re already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, “are you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?”
“oh, well, we’d be doing things a little backwards since we’re already like, married…but, yes? maybe? is that okay?”
it’s yeosang’s turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you don’t notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky
“yeah, that’s okay”
you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance
it’s kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences
you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but you’re unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him
the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters
because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up
as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeper’s dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore
“why didn’t you reply to my letters?” you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice
yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open
and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says
“you wrote me letters?”
your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception
“too many to count,” you confess, “until you sent a letter telling me to stop…”
“impossible. i never got your letters”
your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, “but-”
“wait,” he interrupts
yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, “do you recognise this?”
upon closer inspection, you realise it’s a square seal stamp
it has the character ‘姜’ carved into it and you’ve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar
“not the seal, no”
he swallows apprehensively, “i stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticity”
you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment
“but then-”
but then who wrote the letter?
and where did all your letters go?
the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers and…eunju
a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile
no, not a smile, you realise
a smirk
you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness
yeosang doesn’t push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful
“i’m sorry for doubting you,” you tell him
it’s nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately
“no, i’m sorry you felt the need to doubt me,” he offers. “that i didn’t make you feel loved enough”
“but i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last night…and even today”
he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers
“you weren’t meant to find out about the first two,” yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly
then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought
he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, “my sister said i did something to upset you…so i um, got you these”
he turns around to reveal a bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously
“forgive me?” he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around
“if you insist,” you take the bouquet into your hands
and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, “i can’t say no to my husband, can i?”
yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers
you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know
eight flowers
eight letters
i l-o-v-e y-o-u
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Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together
grim reaper! jason todd
Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.
Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling
Word Count: 6081
Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)
Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.
Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!
He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.
"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly.
Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention.
"You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed.
“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him.
As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was.
He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,
“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.
He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”
Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”
“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.
He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.
“I mean, not really.”
A pause of silence.
“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”
“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?”
“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”
“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”
He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”
“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.
"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”
“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”
“Well… yes, but-”
“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”
He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”
“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.
“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”
You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”
“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.
“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.
He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention.
“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”
“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice."
He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”
"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."
He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”
“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.
“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied.
“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?
“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”
He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”
“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now.
“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.
“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”
He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”
“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle.
“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen.
You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.
“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch.
“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.
His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event.
And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things.
“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned.
“What? You don’t want me here?”
“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”
“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”
“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?”
Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance.
He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest.
This was a much better use of his time.
“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast.
“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands.
He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”
“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page.
“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you.
“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.”
He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?”
“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body.
“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.”
Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this.
“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!”
He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”
“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”
“Hm? Yeah, why?”
He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."
You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand.
“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.
You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”
“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.
“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”
He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.
“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.”
“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing.
“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”
“That sounds just fine to me.”
His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes.
You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.
“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm.
“Yeah,” You mumble back.
He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.
Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist.
His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming.
Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.
"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.
He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.
You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher.
Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.
“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.
“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping.
“You have me.”
“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”
“You can have that too…” You sighed out.
“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.
“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter.
The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.
He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you.
"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation.
You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you.
“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”
You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.
Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one.
“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly, and he never wants to stop hearing your voice.
“I got you, princess.”
He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?”
“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.
“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body.
You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you.
You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”
Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed.
His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers.
“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame.
He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.
He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him.
“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins.
He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud.
“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face.
He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub.
“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could.
He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.
“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.
“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.
“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths.
“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason.
“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.
“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.
“N-not there!”
“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”
“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you.
“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him.
“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you.
“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”
You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard.
The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.
He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him.
He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you.
“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break.
“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue.
The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins.
Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia.
Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew.
“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in.
“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole.
“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.
His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’
You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.
“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore.
“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small.
He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his.
His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.
He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips.
He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh.
“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”
He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again.
“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt.
“Please.”
You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.
“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms.
You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over.
He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat.
“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”
“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask.
You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”
“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers.
His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”
“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”
You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language.
He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting.
He’s…. big.
Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.
“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance.
His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists.
He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.
“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter.
“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again.
Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother.
You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside.
“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.
He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos.
“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.
“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him.
He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.”
“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble.
“Isn’t it?” He grins.
He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock.
He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come.
You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body.
He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust.
“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins.
“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat.
“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.
“J-Jay…”
Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls.
He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”
A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once.
“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp.
He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body.
“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”
“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder.
“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”
Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.
“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.
“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.”
A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath.
The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred.
When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.
“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.
You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him.
"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."
“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly.
Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."
Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3
- sumi ☆ミ
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requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah
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